


Fancy thinking the Beast

by TheTartWitch



Series: Tobirama/Madara [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Flower Language, Hallucinating Tobirama, M/M, Sad, Tobirama is imprisoned, Tobirama is the only one reincarnated, Unrequited/Unreal Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 10:32:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8159020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTartWitch/pseuds/TheTartWitch
Summary: Red carnation: my heart aches for you, admirationStriped carnation: No, Refusal, Sorry I Can't Be With You, Wish I Could Be With You
Tobirama swore never to draw flowers again, but Madara makes him break many promises.Even when he doesn't exist.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from this quote:  
> “Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill! You knew, didn’t you? I’m part of you? Close, close, close! I’m the reason why it’s no go? Why things are what they are?” -William Golding, Lord of the Flies

The door handle turns, but he doesn’t move. If he’s lucky, it’ll be Dr. Tsunade or Nurse Shizune, here with his pills and glass of water to block the crazy from taking him over. 

(He doesn’t tell her about the side effects and lack of real effect on the true problem: in his head, she’s his brother’s daughter, powerful and strong and hopelessly ready to be happy; in his head, she’s Tsunade’s lover’s niece, rescued from a home of nothing and taken on an adventure to save the world one alcoholic beverage and lost bet at a time.)

It’s not the doctor or nurse. It’s Hashirama. Of course it is; he’s a dutiful, loving brother whose only regret is wishing he could have helped before Tobirama’s illness got serious. 

At least it’s not Madara or Izuna. Small mercies, he supposes.

\--

Hashirama is perfectly pleasant until Tobirama mentions Mito.

“How is your wife? Is Mito alright?” He says, wondering absently if she’s happy. She doesn’t visit often; he wonders why. He comes back to himself and glances at Hashirama’s odd stillness.

“How did you know about Mito? I haven’t even told you about her yet! And she’s just my girlfriend at the moment, sadly,” Hashirama says proudly, waving his bare finger in Tobirama’s face. “Soon, maybe.”

“My mistake,” Tobirama says, mouth going dry.  _ I could’ve sworn she’d visited. Or was that…?  _

Hashirama leaves him be after that, watching him draw pictures of shinobi and wars and jutsus as though he’s a child needing looking after. Hashirama sighs when he finds one of Tobirama’s favorites in the stack by his bed. 

“Always the trees with you, brother,” he says fondly, holding up an image of himself, running through a field with trees sprouting and splintering in his footsteps. “Why not fire, or flowers?” His voice is wistful. Tobirama had only drawn flowers once, for his mother’s funeral. He’d never drawn another out of love for her. When he drew another, he’d sworn, it would be for the one he loved.

Underneath Hashirama is Mito, blazing like an inferno and grinning like the devil. Hashirama studies it. “You’ve captured her perfectly, brother.” 

Tobirama ducks his head to peek at his brother through his bangs. “She’ll stay, big brother. She won’t leave.”

“You sound so sure,” Hashirama chuckles, and Tobirama flushes.

Beneath Mito and Hashirama is Tobirama’s absolute favorite: Madara, caught in the middle of a kata, his body balanced and angular and wild. His eyes gleam with the Sharingan, and in the corner is a wall of glass, reflecting Tobirama into the picture. He swallows at his brother’s gasp; he looks happy in that drawing. But that’s probably not why Hashirama had gasped.

Tucked behind Madara’s ear, woven into his thick black hair, was a red carnation, petals reaching like an explosion. At Tobirama’s own feet a striped carnation was flourishing proudly.

“Who’s this?!” Hashirama demands, but with Tobirama’s back turned he misses his brother’s expression. 

“You wouldn’t know him.” Tobirama tries to say it flippantly, and knows his brother understands.

_ He doesn’t exist here, Hashirama.  _

_ I am in love with a man who no longer exists anywhere but inside my head. _


End file.
